Page 49 of Badges
She makes me feel wanted, not as an agent of the law, but as a man.
A provider. And an advocate for her and her sister.
There’s a part of me that hopes I can rescue that little girl, if for no other reason than to see the look of thanks on Elena’s face.
“Wade?” Mason slaps my upper arm lightly. “Ya zoned out there, buddy. I was just saying, We gotta go help Sawyer unload a trailer of hay from Shufflebottom’s. Keep us posted, huh?” He takes his and Dixon’s empty dishes to the sink.
“That reminds me, it looks like I’ll end up with a few extra round bales this year if you wanted to send him over next weekend?” All that grass I cut a few days ago should be ready.
It’s so damn hot out, it was likely popcorn fart dry this past weekend.
Elena had me distracted going through her suspect list.
“Sounds good.” Mason tugs his boots on and nods before leaving.
“Thanks, Wade.” Dixon smacks me in the same place Mason had. “Let’s not poke that hornet’s nest unless we have to.” His mustache twitches over his tight lips.
“No problem. Last thing I want is Judge Simmons turning on me.” I grimace at the idea.
The bad part about a small town, anyone in power can make life miserable through their connections, and the judge has fifty years of them.
August heat rolls off the hood of my truck when I climb in, and a burst of hot air from the vents makes a sheen of sweat pop out on my neck.
One of those rootbeer floats that Maria used to fix up for me at the ice cream shop sounds pretty damn good about now.
Screw it, I’m getting one.
Two.
They balance in the cardboard carrier as I push in the door to the house.
“Elena? I brought home a surprise!” I call out.
Silence answers.
That’s weird.
I set them on the counter, then knock on her room. “Elena? Got headphones in?”
My breath comes a little faster.
Did she…?
No. She wouldn’t have escaped.
Fucking Paige would be here already.
A noise has me jerking my head towards the stairs leading down. Soft patting, accompanied by a low humming.
Ahh. Sounds like she’s working out.
I bet she’ll really enjoy the cold treat.
Rescuing the sweating paper cups from the kitchen, my boots fall heavy on the wooden stairs until I reach the concrete floor.
Her shorts are snug over the swell of her ass as she dances from side to side with her raven hair in a high ponytail facing away from me, lifting a small set of weights in the air over her head.
All while singing slightly offkey to the music in her earbuds.
